


paint my body gold

by catching_paper_moons



Series: paint my body gold [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, mat is sad but he's workin on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 07:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13266873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catching_paper_moons/pseuds/catching_paper_moons
Summary: Mat thinks that maybe, maybe he could really like Ebs, but Ebs is definitely too good for him, and deserves better than whatever Mat has to offer him. Mat has no qualms about this, so maybe he can bend his rules and they can just like, fuck, you know? Mat’s good at that.“You think it could work?” he asks Josh, who laughs and laughs, and Mat pouts. “Come on, dude, really?”“I hate you,” Josh says, wiping a tear from his eye, still laughing, “I really do. Go for it, man.”





	paint my body gold

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize your name or anyone you know just burn your laptop!!!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who did cheerleading on this!! Laura, Ria, and Ang, thank you for reading this when it was like only 6k and now look where we are! Elena, thank you for hyping me with this ship and this fic!
> 
> Thanks to Ria for the idea that Mat Barzal just deserves the entire world and Jordan Eberle wants to give it to him. I just kind of took it and ran. This is really just a fic of me loving Mat Barzal and wanting to give him the world. I love him a lot.
> 
> Title from Oh Wonder's "Body Gold"
> 
> Read the bottom for untagged characters and warnings.

Mat decides very early in the summer that he’s not gonna be his usual self when he makes the Islanders this year. Like, he’s gonna grow up, mature, and be really good. As a person, he means. He’s already a great hockey player. And he’s not being cocky. He just knows he is. And he’s not going to sleep around. 

And he does make the team, which is so great. The guys like him, and his linemates are amazing. Like, he gets to play with Anders Lee, and  _ fucking  _ John Tavares, and Jordan Eberle. 

Also, Jordan Eberle is, to be honest, one of Mat’s favorite people in the whole world.

Mat’s been playing some of his best hockey, and it’s definitely because he’s got great linemates, like Jordan Eberle. Mat loves playing NHL hockey. He’s excelling at playing NHL hockey, and part of this --  most of this -- is because of Jordan Eberle. Ebs is great. Ebs plays Nintendo Switch with him on the plane, or the bus, and they end up sharing music recommendations, and book recs. So, yeah, Ebs is the best. Ebs treats him like a real person, not a rookie. Ebs gets rookies. He was, after all, an Edmonton Oiler.

Mat thinks that maybe,  _ maybe  _ he could really like Ebs, but Ebs is definitely too good for him, and deserves better than whatever Mat has to offer him. Mat has no qualms about this, so maybe he can bend his rules and they can just like, fuck, you know? Mat’s good at that.

“You think it could work?” he asks Josh, who laughs and laughs, and Mat pouts. “Come on, dude, really?” 

“I hate you,” Josh says, wiping a tear from his eye, still laughing, “I really do. Go for it, man.”

So.

 

Mat is really, really drunk, and Ebs is really, really attractive, and he’s definitely not thinking straight in any way when he grabs Tito and says he needs to talk to him about fucking Ebs. Tito’s eyebrows shoot straight up, and he pulls Mat toward the bathroom so fast that Mat can barely keep up.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Tito grabs Mat’s collar and pulls him close. Mat squirms uncomfortably, not making eye contact. “You want to do  _ what _ ?” 

“Fuck Ebs,” Mat responds, running his hand through his hair to calm it down. “You think it’s a pipe dream?” He drags Tito toward the bar and flashes his fake, getting them two drinks. “I just think he’s hot.”

“What about your whole pact?” Tito takes the drink gratefully, though, and chugs it all at once, gagging afterwards. “Jesus, what’s in this?” Mat snorts. Amateur.

“That was just a double tequila shot,” Mat says, knocking his back like a pro. He coughs once, then shakes his head. “I’m good at just sex, no feelings. It’ll be fine.”

“You emphatically are  _ not _ ,” Tito says, buying them both beer. “Here, fine, whatever, don’t involve me anymore. Bring this to him, do whatever, don’t fuck up team dynamics.” Mat smacks a kiss on his cheek in thanks and walks very determinedly toward Ebs, setting it in front of him.

“Hey,” he says, sliding in next to Ebs. “Ebs, hey.” 

“Hi, Barz,” he says. He nods toward the beer. “That for me?” Mat nods, suddenly feeling nervous, and Ebs smiles, causing Mat’s stomach to swoop like he’s on a rollercoaster. He takes a big sip of his beer and leans on the table, going for suave and ending up at ‘a fucking idiot’ as his arm slips on the alcohol soaked table and he smacks his head on it. 

“Ow,” Mat says, rubbing at his head as Ebs reaches for him, mouth twisted in concern. “I’m fine.” He can hear Tito snickering in the corner and he flips him off, but Ebs tsks and moves his hand toward Mat’s head. “Seriously, Ebs.”

“I’m just gonna do concussion protocol,” he says, trying to hide a smile. Mat snorts. “Come on, follow my finger.” Mat complies, biting down on a witty reply. Ebs just raises an eyebrow, and Mat honest to god  _ giggles. _

“What the fuck,” Tito whispers. Mat rolls his eyes, and Josh laughs.

“Oh, just say it, Barz,” someone else says, and--

“Kinda imagined you saying that in different circumstances,” Mat says, and the table laughs. Ebs just shakes his head, smoothing Mat’s hair back and letting his hand fall to Mat’s thigh. Mat thinks maybe his evil plan is working.

“You’re too much,” JT says, and Mat just shrugs, fluttering his eyelashes. Ebs just laughs at him, sipping his beer again, and Mat takes an opportunity to just watch him. At least he has the excuse of being drunk, he thinks. Ebs sits back, and he looks at Mat, considering, almost. Mat just raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll take you home,” he says, and Mat nods. “I think you’ve had enough.” Mat agrees, and they set off for the exit, Ebs promising to take an Uber. Mat watches him while they wait, quiet. Ebs -- Jordan -- frowns.

“What?” Mat asks. His voice is soft, almost comforting.

“You look like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking, tonight,” Ebs says. “Are you okay?” 

Mat nods, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I’m okay,” he says. “Just thinking isn’t a bad thing.” He runs his hand through his hair again, and accidentally touches the sore spot from where he hit his head earlier. He winces, and Ebs frowns harder. “Ebs, I’m fine. It’s not like I’m gonna be out with an undisclosed upper-body injury or anything because I hit my head.”

“Is it the first goal? Because it’ll come, I promise you.” Ebs slings an arm over Mat’s shoulders, squeezing him slightly. Mat takes a deep breath, and they stand there for a moment, just silent. Mat scrolls through Instagram, and then the Uber pulls up, and Ebs gives Mat’s address. Mat’s brows furrow, and Ebs sighs. “Hey, Barz. Mat.”

“Hey, sorry,” Mat says, leaning back in the seat. “I’m not that drunk. And I’m  _ not  _ worried about my first goal. I know.” Ebs just hums, and Mat sighs. “Can I...never mind.”

“What?” Ebs turns to face him in the back seat. “What’s up?” The Uber pulls to a stop and Mat sighs. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover you. See you tomorrow, Barz.” He smiles toothily and Mat feels his cheeks flush as he waves Ebs off. He walks into Seids house, feeling too much.

_ Hey, _ Tito texts.  _ How’d it go? _

_ It didn’t _ , Mat responds, and he leaves it at that. Maybe tomorrow.

 

Mat’s playing lights out, now, just getting better and better with each game. He and Jordan continue their video game playing, and their little book club, which they get chirped about endlessly. It only sucks a little bit.

“Just because you don’t want to read doesn’t mean I need to get chirped!” Mat exclaims, almost overly defensive. He’s pointing his finger at Chimmer, who’s laughing hysterically at Mat as he holds a copy of  _ Jane Eyre  _ in his hands. “I’m furthering my education.”

“Have you read it yet?” Chimmer says, turning toward Jordan, who shakes his head. “Are you gonna?”

“It was Barzy’s turn to pick,” he says, teasing smile on his lips. Mat narrows his eyes. “His mom gave him the recommendation.”

“I’m gonna sit next to Tito today, I think,” Mat says, grabbing his jacket. “Feeling bullied. I’m being bullied! JT, help me!”

“Shut  _ up _ , Barz,” JT says, shaking his head. Mat grabs for his bag, but Jordan reaches out his arm, slamming it down on the seat with more strength than he intended. His eyes widen and he looks at Mat, shocked.

“Holy shit,” Mat says, laughing, and Jordan laughs too, and Mat just rolls his eyes and stuffs his jacket in the overhead bin. “I’m just kidding, Ebs, I wouldn’t leave ya like that.”

“‘Course,” Jordan says, nodding seriously, “It’s such a privilege to have you sitting next to me.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and Mat turns toward him, faking being offended.

“You little shit!” This makes Jordan laugh loudly, and Mat hits his arm halfheartedly. “He’s bullying me again! Seids, help me out!” 

“No,” he drawls, which just makes the entire team burst into laughter. Mat sinks in his seat, smiling slightly, but turns to face Jordan, who’s still chuckling to himself. Mat just really, really wants to get his hands on Jordan, and he’s wondering when exactly Ebs became Jordan, but he’s not gonna question it. He squirms a little, feeling hot, and Jordan pulls out his phone as the plane takes off, and Mat is still squirming, but for a different reason. Jordan puts a hand on Mat’s knee, squeezing.

“Chill, Barz,” he says, and they make eye contact. The moment feels charged, and Mat thinks he could just lean in and kiss Jordan, under different circumstances. Mat feels anchored, okay, and he takes a deep breath. “You’re okay.” Jordan’s hand moves further up Mat’s thigh, and Mat’s breath hitches quietly as the plane lights go out. 

“Ebs,” he breathes, and Jordan’s eyes go dark. “Shit,” he says suddenly, and Jordan’s hand stalls. “Is someone--”

“No one’s paying attention,” Jordan whispers. He runs a finger up Mat’s thigh, and Mat bites down on his finger to keep from making a noise. “Is this okay?”

“Absolutely,” he says. “Was wondering when you’d get the memo.” Jordan raises an eyebrow, and nods toward the bathroom, because they’re not gonna fuck in the middle of the plane, duh, Mat.

He goes first, moving quickly. He waits three minutes pretending like he’s getting coffee, and Jordan pulls him into the bathroom and pulls him into a kiss. It’s not earth shattering; if anything, it’s kind of messy, but Mat doesn’t care, just keeps Jordan pressed up against the wall. He’s breathing hard, and Jordan’s got his lips on Mat’s neck, going to work. And Mat could honestly come from just this, he’s waited so long, but --

“Please,” he says, desperate, “please, just.” He can’t get the words out, but Jordan seems to understand, flipping them so Mat’s up against the wall now. He undoes the buttons on Mat’s shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and he sucks a bruise on Mat’s collarbone. “Oh, god, Ebs.”

“You’re easy,” Jordan murmurs, unbuckling Mat’s belt and Mat’s eyebrows raise.

“And you’re hot,” he says, breathing hard as Jordan grabs and moves his hand up. “Oh,  _ fuck _ .”

“Shh.” Jordan pushes him more up against the wall, and Mat is literally in actual bliss, he could die. “Be quiet, we’re in a plane bathroom.”

“Way to kill the mood,” Mat says, and he gasps when Jordan grips harder. “ _ Dude _ .”

“I’m giving you a hand job and you called me ‘dude’,” Jordan chuckles, moving faster. He kisses Mat again, and Mat groans into Jordan’s mouth. 

“God, Ebs,  _ Jordan _ .” He’s breathing faster, and Jordan’s moving faster and Mat bites down on his finger so he doesn’t just moan louder than everyone’s noise cancelling headphones. “I’m gonna--”

“Yeah, babe?” Jordan asks, and Mat nods, unable to speak, and Jordan says, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Mat comes and he leans against the wall, breathing hard. “How do you feel?”

Mat tilts his head, considering, and Jordan kisses him once, and turns around to grab paper towels. “I feel like I wanna suck your dick,” Mat says, and Jordan raises both eyebrows. “That cool?”

“Let me clean you up first,” Jordan says, and Mat rolls his eyes. “What?”

“So responsible,” Mat says, smirking, and he holds his hands out. “Come on, I can do it quicker than you can.” Jordan hands him the paper towels, and he wipes himself down, checks his pants, pulling them up. “Good?” he asks, and Jordan nods. “Great.” He pushes Jordan up against the wall, kissing his cheek and then his mouth, working Jordan’s shirt open as he kisses down his chest.

“Oh, good lord,” Jordan says, and Mat bursts into laughter around the middle of Jordan’s stomach. “What?” 

Mat looks up at him and Jordan looks put out. Mat kisses him, hard and fast, and pulls back. “Nothing. You’re cute.” He pulls Jordan’s pants down, and someone knocks on the door. He feels his heart rate speed up, and Jordan shakes his head, winking. He figures he’s in the better position, and he stands up. “Yeah?”

“Barz, is that you? Oh, never mind, the other bathroom just opened up,” he hears Anders say, and then footsteps walk away. He breathes out and Jordan just pushes him up against the wall, kissing him again. 

“We can finish that later, eh?” he says, and Mat nods as Jordan pushes him out of the bathroom. Mat takes a deep breath and looks himself over in the mirror above the sink outside the bathroom, determines he looks fine, and Jordan slips out. They look, and most of the guys are asleep, but Tito catches Mat’s eye and looks back at how Jordan is coming back from the same place, and just shakes his head.

Jordan slips in first, and Mat, still a little sleepy, plops down in his seat and tries to curl up without touching Jordan at all. He doesn’t usually do that whole hook up and then sleep in the same bed --  er, plane -- as a person, but Jordan huffs and puts the armrest up in between them. Mat raises an eyebrow, and Jordan sighs. “You can stretch out, if you want. I don’t mind.” His voice is gentle, and Mat lays his head on Jordan’s shoulder. Jordan puts his arm around him and squeezes softly, and Mat feels safe. He passes out almost immediately.

 

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Tito says as Mat’s grabbing his duffle from the plane.

“What?” Mat asks, fully knowing what Tito will say. He braces himself, but Tito just gives him a look that makes him look like Caveman Spongebob. He says this, and Tito rolls his eyes and snorts.

“You’re truly unbelievable. On an airplane?” Tito asks, and Mat shrugs. “God, do you have feelings at all? Are you secretly a robot? Tell me, now.”

“Nope,” Mat says, popping the ‘p’. “I’m definitely a robot. Tell me more about myself, Anthony.” Tito sighs as Mat heads toward Seids’ car, shooting him finger guns as he loads his luggage into the back seat. 

_ Seriously. Crush is showing dude,  _ Tito says, and Mat just huffs.

_ fuck you _ , Mat replies, and well. That’s that.

Seids asks him if everything’s okay with him and Tito, and Mat says yes, and his thumb hovers over Jordan’s name, but he leaves it instead. He’s not gonna get all feelings-y now.

 

Mat and Jordan continue their hooking up and cuddling afterwards, and Tito continues to know about it, without Jordan knowing about it, which Mat feels bad about. He’s laying on Jordan’s bare chest as Jordan scrolls through Twitter on his phone and idly tracing a pattern on Jordan’s bicep when he thinks to say something.

“Hey, so. Tito, like, knows,” is how he starts out, and Jordan just hums. “Ebs, Jordan, my guy. Tito knows we fuck.”

“Jesus,” Jordan says, laughing quietly. He presses a kiss to the top of Mat’s head. “I mean, he’s not gonna say anything, right?” He cards his fingers through Mat’s hair, and Mat belatedly thinks maybe he should cut it. 

“No,” Mat says quietly. “He won’t. He’s the one who helped me at first, anyway, so I don’t think so.” Mat moves to get up, and Jordan groans. “Dude, I’ve gotta get back to my room.”

“You really don’t,” Jordan says, arms tightening around him until Mat flops back against his chest, hair splaying everywhere. Jordan smooths it back. “I like your hair like this.”

“Do you?” Mat asks, completely genuine. “I was just thinking about getting it cut.” He looks up at Jordan, imploring, and Jordan smiles, soft and sweet, and leans in to kiss him. Mat kisses him back, and it’s lazy and sweet, and Mat feels contentment settling in him. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to Jordan’s neck, and settling back there.

Jordan hums, playing with the hair at the nape of Mat’s neck. “I think you’d look good either way,” he says, and Mat cannot believe this is his life. He kisses Jordan’s cheek, then his mouth, feeling his way around, and Jordan groans. Mat pulls away, pressing a chaste kiss to Jordan’s lips, and rolls out of bed. 

“I have to go to my room, Ebs,” Mat says, pulling on his sweats, then his shirt. He hesitates, wondering if he should say something about texting him, but Jordan just shrugs, sits up, and kisses him again. 

“Okay. I’ll text you,” he says, and Mat almost breathes out a sigh of relief into Jordan’s mouth, but he keeps it in check and walks out with an awkward wave. He pads down the hallway to his room, checking the time on his watch--only 1:12 am, not bad--and opens the door to his room, only to find Tito sitting on his bed.

“Oh, hey,” Tito says, and Mat snorts.

“Most of my fantasies with you don’t start with clothes on, babe,” Mat says, winking, and Tito groans, which makes Mat laugh loudly.

“You are the worst,” Tito says in French. Mat shrugs.

“I try,” Mat replies, smirking. He flops next to Tito, propping himself up on an elbow and wiggling his eyebrows. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“You,” Tito says, pointing a finger at him, “are awful at hiding your giant crush on Jordan Eberle.” Mat gapes, and starts to defend himself, but Tito shakes his head. “No, let me finish. God, Mat, just admit you caught feelings before you’re too far in and you can’t let it go.” Mat’s stomach drops and his chest constricts. He tries to take a deep breath, but it falls on shallow lungs.

“Fuck you,” he says, taking another shallow breath. “That’s not fair, that’s _ not fair _ , and you know it.” Mat rubs at his eyes, tears prickling in the corners. He forces them back in, impossibly. “I can’t believe you would come in here and say that.”

“I’m trying to  _ help you _ ,” Tito says pointedly. “Barz, I’m not trying to hurt you. God, the way you’re reacting just tells me I’m right.” Mat can feel his breaths getting faster, and he wills Tito to stop talking. “Mat, just--”

“Stop talking,” Mat gets out. It’s venomous, and Tito flinches, not used to this side of Mat. “Stop talking just, for one goddamn second, Jesus.” He tries to calm his breathing, and Tito scoots closer. “Don’t,” he warns, but Tito disregards, and pulls Mat into a hug. 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Tito says, and he rubs Mat’s back. “I’m sorry. I pushed it. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, you really did,” Mat says, clutching Tito’s shirt like a lifeline keeping him afloat. He feels a little bit like he’s drowning. 

“Mat,” Tito says, and he sounds sad.

“Please don’t,” Mat says, tears threatening to spill over. God, he hates crying. He doesn’t wanna think about them. About Marns, about Chabby. “I know drunk me makes bad decisions, but I’m kind of happy right now, okay?” He breathes out, shaky, and Tito rubs his back. “Let me be happy, Tito.”

“Okay,” Tito says, comforting. Mat’s crying, but it feels cathartic, maybe. Like he should’ve cried before. “Okay.”

 

Mat tells Seids he’s staying over at Jordan’s, and Seids just shrugs.

“Okay, Barz. You know I’m not your dad, right?” he asks, and Mat shrugs, shooting him finger guns and walking backwards out the door. “Don’t trip!”

Mat definitely does, but, whatever. He throws his shit in his car and makes the drive to Jordan’s place, almost getting into 2 accidents, neither of which would’ve been his fault, and makes it to Jordan’s in record time.

He spends approximately 30 seconds psyching himself up, then knocks on the door. Jordan opens it, smiling. “Hey,” he says, and his voice is warm and rich like the hot chocolate Mat had earlier. Mat could listen to it forever. “Your hair looks nice.” Mat furrows his brows and runs his hand over it, and remembers.

“Ah, you like the new ‘do?” he asks, traipsing in like he owns the place. He turns around, looking at Jordan and wiggling his eyebrows, flipping his new hair cut out of his face. “I feel young again.”

“You already are,” Jordan says, laughing. Mat jumps over the back of the couch and sprawls, pulling out his phone. “What, do I not get to sit on my couch?”

Mat rolls his eyes, smiling slightly. “There’s fully enough room if you lift my legs, Ebs,” he says, and Jordan snorts, moving Mat’s legs. He sits down and Mat lets his legs flop on Jordan’s lap. Jordan’s hand covers Mat’s ankle and rubs little circles into it, and they just exist for a bit while some cooking show plays in the background.

Usually, Mat would be filling the silence with his loud voice, but he feels like this situation requires just being silent, just...being. He’s calmed down a lot since high school, since the draft, since even last year, but he still feels the need to fill every room he’s in, because otherwise, what even is he? Mat often feels like he’s forgettable, like if he wasn’t loud he could just fade into the background, because he was always great but never the best, always beautiful but never the prettiest, always a decent human but never really kind. Jack of all trades, master of none and all that. 

He takes a deep breath and blows a raspberry into the air, trying to let go of all the tension in his body. Jordan squeezes his ankle. “You good?” he asks, and Mat squirms, trying to will the ache in his chest away.

“Yeah, just thinking,” he responds, locking his phone and setting it on Jordan’s table. 

“You’ve been doing that ‘just thinking’ stuff a lot lately.” Jordan turns to face him and Mat sits up, scooting closer. Jordan brushes a stray strand of hair out of Mat’s face. “What are you just thinking about?”

Mat shrugs. “Getting my hands on you,” he says, and it’s true, but not what Jordan was looking for, because Jordan frowns.

“Maybe once I get it out of you?” Jordan asks, not unkindly, but Mat just smirks, shaking his head.

“Sorry, Ebs, but there’s a level you need to be at to unlock my tragic backstory, baby.” He moves closer and puts his lips on Jordan’s neck, sucking a bruise right in the middle. Jordan’s breath hitches, and Mat breathes out a laugh, which makes Jordan laugh.

“Sorry, I’m ticklish,” he says, and Mat’s face lights up. “Oh no.”

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” Mat says, positively gleeful. “This is the best news I’ve heard all day.” He presses a kiss to Jordan’s mouth, then his cheek, then back to his neck, and Jordan squirms, still laughing. Mat huffs, but he’s smiling. Jordan’s cute like this. “Sit still, Jesus.” He continues to mark Jordan up, and Jordan is compliant, quiet. Mat pulls back, kissing him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jordan says, pulling him back in for another kiss. This one’s longer and messier, and Mat feels himself getting more and more worked up. Jordan bites at his collarbone and Mat gasps, feeling Jordan smile as he kisses right there. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.” 

“‘M not,” Mat mumbles into Jordan’s hair, and Jordan kisses him again. He tugs at the end of Mat’s sweatshirt, and Mat makes quick work of trying to get it over his head, but it gets stuck, causing Jordan to laugh. “Stop laughing.” It’s muffled by the sweatshirt, causing Jordan to laugh more.

“It’s cute,” Jordan says, pulling it over his head. He discards it by the edge of the couch, still kissing Mat. It’s intense, hot, and Jordan grinds up against him. Mat moans a little and Jordan pulls back slightly. “God, you’re hot.”

“Then stop talking,” Mat says, breathless, and Jordan flips him so they’re laying down. He trails kisses down Mat’s chest and stomach, tugging at Mat’s pants. “Off?”

“Yeah,” Jordan says, and Mat lifts his hips so Jordan can slip them off as quick as possible. He pauses to take his own shirt off, and Mat just takes a moment to enjoy the view, raking his eyes over Jordan’s chest. Jordan rolls his eyes, smiling. “Like what you see?”

“Definitely.” Mat leans up and Jordan meets him halfway, kissing him. It’s not like the other ones, which have been hurried and frantic. It’s slower, sweet, and he lowers Mat into the cushions, feeling around. Mat moans into Jordan’s mouth, and Jordan grinds against him again. “Ebs, please.” Mat sounds desperate even to his own ears, and Jordan slips his hand into Mat’s boxers. “ _ God _ , Jordan.”

“This okay?” Jordan breathes against his neck, and Mat nods, fumbling with the button on Jordan’s jeans and pulling them down. They’re moving fast, and Jordan reaches into a cabinet in the table and pulls out lube.

“Oh, finally,” Mat groans, and Jordan snorts. Mat pulls his boxers down and Jordan leans down, kissing Mat’s neck. “Jordan, please, please.”

“You need to tell me what you want,” Jordan says, pulling back. 

“Anything,” Mat breathes, “I’m okay with anything.” Jordan moves down and scrapes his teeth over Mat’s hipbone. “ _ Oh. _ ” Jordan presses a kiss there, and Mat is in absolute bliss. He’s probably said that a lot. 

Jordan puts the lube on, holding Mat in place, and Mat’s shivering. He can’t tell if it’s from the sex or the fact that he has no clothes on. He grips the side of the couch, breathing hard already, and Jordan smooths his hair back. “You’re okay, it’s okay,” he says, voice quiet. Mat whines, and Jordan rocks against him. “I’ve got you.”

“Fuck, Jordan,” Mat says, and he feels tears pooling in his eyes. Jordan slots in between Mat’s legs, and Mat literally feels his dick twitch. “God, babe, just keep going.” 

“You like this?” Jordan asks, grinding against him, and Mat whines. “Okay, okay.” He moves faster, and Mat feels helpless, literally shaking. 

“Can you just--” Mat asks, and Jordan stops. “No, no, just...fuck me.” Jordan hums, pressing a kiss to Mat’s shoulder, neck, then cheek. Mat flips himself over, and Jordan laughs. “Don’t laugh at me,” Mat whines, and Jordan just laughs more. “ _ Ebs _ .”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Jordan says, and he slips in, and Mat cries out. “You’re sweet.” He kisses the back of Mat’s shoulder, and slips it in further, and Mat is going to cry right here, right now. He thinks he really likes Jordan. He definitely doesn’t say this. Jordan rocks against him and Mat is almost euphoric.

He comes almost too soon, and Jordan comes a second after, and they just lay there for a while, breathing against each other. Mat presses a kiss to Jordan’s hair as he tries to slow his heart rate. He thinks, not for the first time, that Jordan is probably settling right now because he wants to get some. Mat’s a little loopy and emotional, and that thought makes him want to cry, because he really likes Jordan. Jordan kisses him and gets up, pulling on his boxers.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks, grabbing his phone and plugging it in. Mat nods, unable to speak. He thinks if he does, he might cry. Jordan furrows his brows. “Did I sex you up that good?”

Mat bursts into laughter, and Jordan smiles. Mat thinks maybe Jordan did that on purpose. “You are legitimately the worst, Ebs. Has anyone ever told you that?” Mat jumps up and pulls on his jogger pants, and grabs his sweatshirt from the side of the couch. “Also, your apartment is freezing.”

Jordan snorts. “And here I thought I did that to you,” he says, gesturing at Mat’s shivering body. Mat pulls his sweatshirt on, sidling up to Jordan’s side. “Silly me.”

“Yeah, silly you.” He cups Jordan’s cheek and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, again. Mat likes these better, he thinks. “Do you want water? I was gonna grab some.” He moves out of Jordan’s embrace and immediately misses the warmth there. Fuck his own dumb rules, he thinks. They’re cuddling tonight.

“Sure, can you make popcorn, too? It’s--”

“In your upper cabinet, yeah.” Mat rifles around, looking for a bit, then pulls the box of microwave popcorn out. “D’you only eat it when I’m here? It’s always in the back.” Mat realizes he’s been here a lot, at least enough to know how Jordan’s kitchen works. He emphatically does not think about that. 

“Better to share with someone, you know?” Jordan says, and Mat is so grateful he’s alone in the kitchen, otherwise someone was going to see him turn bright red, which he  _ never  _ does. He pulls out his phone and texts Tito.

_ ok, I’m fucked _ , he says.

_ Oh, barz,  _ Tito responds. Mat sighs heavily and puts the popcorn in the microwave. He almost wishes Tito had said “I told you so,” because that he can deal with. The pity that he’s going to get? Not great.

_ what, no I told you so? _

_ You just figured it out. Figured I’d wait til tomorrow,  _ Tito says, and Mat has to laugh at that. Fuck his life and all that jazz. He pulls out a bowl and stops the microwave just before 0:01 and pours it into a bowl. Popcorn is better when you have someone to share it with, he thinks.

He pushes all thoughts of feelings out of his mind and plops next to Jordan, setting the bowl in his lap. He curls up under Jordan’s arm, and Jordan doesn’t say anything, just rubs little circles into his shoulder and turns on “House Hunters”.

“This isn’t a movie, Ebs,” Mat says. “Really. I’m gonna get so heated.”

“Shhh, Mat, just watch.” Mat’s stomach swoops when Jordan uses his real name instead of Barz, and he pulls Jordan into a kiss instead. He valiantly tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters at that. Jordan laughs, pulling away. “Seriously, this is a good one.”

“Oh, you’ve seen it before?” Mat chirps, and Jordan shushes him again. They settle into a rhythm, and Mat starts trying to throw kernels into Jordan’s gaping mouth whenever one of the couple says something stupid. Jordan flinches each time, and it makes Mat giggle, which makes Jordan smile, so he figures it’s probably fine. Eventually, the husband says something so dumb and Mat groans.

“I mean, come on,” Jordan complains, clearly affronted. “There’s no way he’s gonna die on that hill, like really who fucking cares about the hardwood floors.”

“Oh, hey now,” Mat warns, pulling away from Jordan’s side. He’s offended. He thought Jordan had better taste. “What do you  _ mean  _ who fucking cares about hardwood floors? Hardwood floors are love, hardwood floors are life.”

“No, no, I mean --  dude can rip up the tile and put in the hardwood himself if he feels so inclined,” Jordan starts, and Mat tentatively leans back in. “I’m just saying that’s the hill he’s gonna die on? Not the master bath being fucking tiny?”

“Okay, no, you’re right,” Mat says, fully leaning back in and grabbing a handful of popcorn. He feels Jordan sigh in relief, slightly, and Mat wonders what he should make of that, so he just doesn’t. He pops the kernels in his mouth one at a time, and throws one in Jordan’s face instead, and Jordan blinks. 

“You’re a menace,” he says, tightening his grip and kissing the side of Mat’s head. 

“And yet you continue to fuck me,” Mat says, throwing another kernel in Jordan’s face. Jordan catches it in his mouth, this time, and Mat raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“That I do,” Jordan replies, and Mat kisses him again. Jordan tastes like butter and Sprite, and underneath all that, he tastes like Mat’s spearmint gum, and Mat likes that, so he keeps kissing him until Mat forgets his own name.

 

Mat wakes up in Jordan’s giant bed, underneath half the covers he started with, and Jordan is snoring softly on the other side of the bed. They’d fucked again last night, Mat topping this time, and he’d completely taken Jordan apart. It was nice, he’d thought, to be in control like that. He figures Jordan’s probably close to waking up, but he takes the time to look at Jordan anyway.

It’s like this.

Mat Barzal is a great many things. He knows he’s complicated, and he performs a lot of self-sabotage on his feelings, because he pretends he deserves the happiness other people make him feel. That’s why he likes hockey. He’s completely in control of his happiness, there. If he and the team play well, he’s happy. If only the team plays well, he’s happy. If only he plays well, well, he’s disappointed, but there’s still an undercurrent of happy, knowing he did all he could to help the team.

Mat loves to be in control, and Jordan makes him feel out of control. Jordan makes him feel like a twelve year-old, giggling at everything his super cool crush is saying to him, unable to control the way his face reacts whenever Jordan does something amazing, or funny, or entirely incredible. 

But holy shit, does Mat love playing hockey with Jordan Eberle.

Jordan makes him better, and makes him want to be better. And he makes Jordan better, too, and he feels good, knowing their relationship is equal. He loves feeling good about hockey, and he feels especially good about the hockey he and Jordan play. He loves feeling like that.

Mat hates feeling out of control. He looks at Jordan, and feels his heart honest to goodness flutter, and hates the way that feels. Jordan shifts slightly, rolling over and throwing his arm around Mat’s waist. “Um,” he says dumbly, and Jordan opens one eye.

“Oh, are you awake?” he mumbles into Mat’s shoulder, and Mat clears his throat.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Mat says, and Jordan opens both eyes.

“Ugh, fine,” he groans, which makes Mat laugh. Jordan smiles, kissing his shoulder. “You want coffee?”

“Can we get it from Starbucks?” Mat asks, and Jordan sighs. Mat kisses him, shutting him up. “Don’t even,” he mumbles against Jordan’s lips, kissing him again. “Your coffee is horrible.”

Jordan kisses him back and shrugs, pulling away and rolling back over and out of bed in one simultaneous move. “Ten out of ten,” Mat mutters, mostly to himself, but it makes Jordan laugh. He likes making Jordan laugh. He hates that he just thought that, because it’s really sappy, and Mat Barzal does not do sappy. And yet.

Everything with Jordan makes him want to be sappy. He wants to make Jordan smile and roll his eyes at something dumb and sappy Mat said. Mat feels like he could throw up he’s feeling so many things at once. 

“Come on, Barz, get up,” Jordan says, throwing a shirt at him. Mat picks it up, looking at it. “It’s yours, I grabbed it from your bag.” Jordan throws said bag at him as well, and Mat huffs out a laugh, pulling the shirt on, and pulling on pants.

They walk the one block to Starbucks, bumping shoulders occasionally, just shooting the shit, and Mat is having so much fun that he barely hears Jordan’s question.

“What’s that?” he says, opening the door for Jordan with an overly grand gesture. Jordan laughs. “No, seriously, I missed it.”

“I asked how you think your season’s going,” Jordan says, and smoothly orders them both the same coffee, using Apple Pay. Convenient.

“I mean. Decently?” Mat says, and Jordan gives him a look. “Okay, alright, it’s going pretty well. I mean.” Mat shrugs, feeling uncomfortable, and Jordan hands him his coffee. Mat takes a large gulp.

“You always sell yourself short, Barzy,” Jordan says, knocking their shoulders together as they walk back to Jordan’s place. “Always. You’re pretty fucking incredible, you know that?”

Mat flushes bright red, but he’s lucky it’s brisk out so he can just blame it on the weather. “Jesus, Ebs, I’m literally one of the worst people on Earth,” he says, laughing. It comes out more bitter than anything. “Don’t know how you missed that.”

“Barz,” Jordan says, and Mat shrugs.

“Hey, don’t make this into a thing, okay? It’s just who I am, you know me. I’m great ‘til I’m not.” He leans against the wall as Jordan unlocks his apartment, and Mat grabs his bag, pulling Jordan in for a kiss before he can argue with Mat again. “I’ll see you tonight.” He flashes a peace sign as he walks out and just shakes his head at himself. He’s gotta get it under control.

 

Naturally, Jordan brings him fries for the plane, Mat falls asleep on his shoulder, Tito takes a picture and sends it to the group chat, and they get chirped endlessly, so really, Mat did not get anything under control. He’s coming back to his room after having left Jordan when he’s quite literally accosted by Tito in the hallway outside his room.

“Uh, hi,” Mat says, and Tito just looks at their position, Mat pressed against the wall with Tito up against him, and backs up. Mat frowns and swipes in to his room, and Tito opens the door and walks in. “Yeah, sure, come right in, dude.” Tito sits on the bed and pats the space next to him, and Mat sits, quietly.

“Yeah, dude, I’m concerned,” Tito starts, and Mat sighs. “I told you you were going to catch feelings, and all you said was that you were gonna fuck. And now look at you.” 

Mat runs his hand through his hair, and lays back on the bed, bouncing a little when he hits the mattress.

“I know, Tito, trust me,” Mat says. His voice sounds dejected, and he feels shitty, because he doesn't want to talk about this, despite knowing that he should. “I wish so much that I could just will these feelings away, because he’s too good for me.”

“See, Mat,” Tito says, laying back with him, “this is your problem. You always say that shit, and then people get upset, because they think you’re saying it for attention.” Tito turns to him. “Stop looking for attention, Barz.”

“Holy shit, I’m  _ not _ ,” Mat says, facing Tito. He props himself up on an elbow. “You know I’m a shitty person, dude. Ebs deserves better than whatever some dumb rookie is gonna give him.” He lets himself flop back down, and Tito clucks at him. Mat snorts, but it sounds sad, even to him. “What are you, my mom?”

“Barzy, seriously, maybe Ebs wants you. Maybe Chabby wanted you, too. Maybe you’re a good person and you just can’t see it.” Tito brushes his hair out of his face, and Mat thinks, under different circumstances, maybe he could’ve fallen in love with Tito. He says this, and Tito laughs. “Yeah, me too, bud.” He sits up, and Mat follows suit, and they’re silent for a moment. 

“I really like him, Tito,” Mat says, quiet. He feels small, kind of like he did in high school. It’s not a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemies. 

“I know you do, Mat.” Tito takes his hand and squeezes, and Mat feels like a weight is lifted from his chest after saying it out loud. 

“I really want him to like me,” he says, even quieter. Tito just squeezes his hand harder, and Mat’s grateful to have someone like him here, someone who knows him and gets him. “I love you, you know.”

“Love you, too,” Tito says, and it’s loaded. Mat’s lucky to have a friend like him. Mat thinks, maybe, it might be okay.

 

It’s not okay, is the thing. Mat knows it’s not okay, because he can feel himself falling harder and faster, and he thinks maybe he deserves this, deserves the pain of falling in love with an older man who won’t fall in love with him. Jordan is everything good in the world, and Mat is everything awful. And sure, opposites attract, but even Mat knows this couldn’t work,  _ shouldn’t  _ work. 

It’s like Chabby. Chabby was and will always be too good for Mat. And Mat knew this and went for it anyway. And Chabby started treating him well and bringing him food and kissing his forehead when he didn’t feel well and Mat felt actual pain in his chest and stomach because Chabby was going to fall in love with a Mat that didn’t really exist, and then when Chabby realized reality he was going to leave, and then it was going to hurt too much.

So Mat went and ended things, and Chabby was hurt and angry, but it was better than Mat hurting him more by being a shitty partner. So it was worth it, not hurting Chabby by being a bad partner. Because all Mat wanted was for him to be happy, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be that person.

Tito has told him multiple times to get his head out of his ass, but here’s the thing. Mat’s not good. He’s just not, and he knows this about himself. He’s hot, and he can be sweet during sex, but the fact is he catches feelings too easily for the wrong people, and he always ends up hurting them, and that just hurts him more. So, really, Mat’s doing these people a favor. He’d be doing Jordan a favor, too, but Jordan’s 27 and very reasonable and wouldn’t catch feelings for a dumb rookie. So Mat’s not worried.

However, in the deepest, darkest depths of Mat’s psyche, he wishes that Jordan liked him back, because he wishes someone nice would love him for once. Because like -- 

Marns really broke his heart, was the thing. Mat would never, ever say that out loud, but he knows that was the tipping point. He fell for Marns, because Marns was sweet and always said the right thing, and then Mat asked if they could date and Marns’ face had just fallen immediately, and Mat had said, “Oh.” 

And Marns bit his lip and said, “I guess I just thought this was just sex, like not really anything, you know?” And Mat had nodded and understood and Marns said he was sorry but Mat just wasn’t his type. Mat totally got it, but that didn’t mean that 4 months of dates and sex to ultimately end up being treated like nothing didn’t hurt. And then Mat met Auston Matthews and broke his heart instead of his own, and Marns and Matts are together, now, isn’t that sweet? Mat ruins everything he touches. So really, everything is Marns’ fault.

(It isn’t. Mat wishes Marns and Matts only the best. And Mat knows it’s his fault for being the way he is. He’s unlovable. Not boyfriend material, Marns said. And Marns was right, and Mat knows that. So like. He knows it’s his fault, but.)

Anyway. All of this is just to say that he kinda wishes Jordan would love him back. He shouldn’t wish that, but he does anyway.

Sue him.

 

Mat falls asleep at Jordan’s place again, this time on accident, and he wakes up from a bad dream literally crying. He can’t stop himself, either; the tears just won’t subside. He realizes, a little belatedly, that he’s having a panic attack.

“Fuck,” he whispers, trying to slow his breathing. He grabs the throw at the end of Jordan’s bed and wraps it around himself, walking to the kitchen. He fills the tea kettle with water and sets it on the stove, waiting impatiently for it to boil as he cries. He’s curled up on a chair, knees to his chest, watching the kettle. He gets his breathing more under control and he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, sniffling a little. He sneezes twice, and the kettle goes off. He wipes at his face to get any errant tears off, then blows his nose. He starts to fill his mug with hot water.

“Hey, Barz,” he hears, and he jumps, spilling a little of the hot water down the side of the mug he’s using. It hits his hand and he hisses shaking it out. “Shit, sorry, babe.” 

Mat turns around, plastering a mostly neutral expression on his face. “It’s fine. Hey,” he says, voice rough and thick, like he’d been crying. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No,” Jordan says quietly, taking a mug out for himself. “You feeling okay? It’s 3 am and you’re making tea. And you sound congested. Do you need Nyquil?” Jordan turns to him, expectant, and Mat looks up from steeping his tea to shrug. He’s not used to someone trying to take care of him.

“Not sick, don’t worry,” Mat says, sniffling again. Jordan narrows his eyes, and Mat just looks at him. “Seriously. It was just a bad dream. Woke up crying, or whatever.” He mumbles the last part and grabs a napkin, blowing his nose again. Jordan just steeps his own tea, and eventually the silence becomes unbearable for Mat. He walks wordlessly to the couch and curls up against one of the arms, sipping at his tea. Jordan walks in and sets his tea on one of the side tables. Mat’s heart rate picks up again; his breathing gets shallower, and Jordan sighs.

“Hey, Barz,” he says, and Mat feels his eyes filling with tears again. He wipes at them, frantic. “Mat.” He motions for Mat to come over toward him, and Mat sighs shakily, handing Jordan his mug. Jordan sets it next to his own mug, and Mat crawls toward him, tucking himself against Jordan’s side.

“Sorry,” he says, and it comes out high-pitched and shaky. Jordan just kisses the top of his head and rubs little circles into his arm with his thumb.

“No need,” he says quietly. They sit there for a while, Jordan just holding Mat while Mat almost cries. He gets his breathing under control again and listens to Jordan’s heartbeat to center himself. Jordan shifts a little, letting go briefly, and Mat makes an offended noise. Jordan huffs out a laugh. “I’m just grabbing your tea for you, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Mat feels relief pool in his chest at that comment, and almost doesn’t hate every second of it.

 

Mat avoids Jordan like the plague for the next three days, and only feels bad when Tito brings up the fact that he’s apparently been moping.

“Like, honest to goodness moping, Barz,” he says. “Every time you brush him off, he looks like a kicked puppy. You hurt him.”

Mat winces at that and runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck me,” he mutters, and Tito grimaces.

“You’re not my type,” he says, and Mat flips him off while Tito laughs. He looks over at Jordan, and Jordan is methodically taping his stick, but he’s not goofing off with the guys like he usually does. Mat sighs, figuring he should stop being a huge dick and just talk to him.

“Hey, Ebs,” he calls out, and Jordan looks up, his facing brightening considerably before he schools it to be more neutral, and, ow, that one hurts. “Wanna grab lunch after practice?” He watches Jordan cycle through thirty different emotions that he can’t even place before he smiles a little, and Mat breathes out a sigh of relief audibly. Tito elbows him, and Mat elbows him back.

“Sure, Barzy, love to.” Jordan walks by him and ruffles his hair, and Tito punches his shoulder. Mat yelps.

“Would you quit it?!” Mat hisses, and Tito laughs.

“See how easy it is to just be a decent person?” Tito asks, and Mat rolls his eyes, punching his shoulder too. 

After a grueling practice, Mat walks out of the showers fully dressed, toweling his hair dry, and makes eye contact with Jordan. He smiles at him, and Jordan reaches out and grabs his elbow.

“What’s up?” Mat says, knowing full well what is actually up, and Jordan sighs.

“Just want to like, make sure you’re okay,” he says, and Mat nods. “You are?” Mat shrugs, and Jordan sighs heavier. “Mat.”

“I…” he trails off, and in a moment of bravery, reaches out and smooths Jordan’s hair back. Jordan looks a little surprised, but no one’s paying attention; they’re all in their own worlds. “Not here, okay?”

Jordan nods, looking less peeved. “Okay, Mat. You almost ready?” Mat nods and grabs his coat and bag, and they walk out together. “Did Seids drive you here?”

Mat nods. “Yeah, he knows I’m going with you, though.” Jordan nods and they get to his car, throwing their stuff in the trunk and getting in. Jordan immediately turns the car on and Mat rubs his hands together, trying to get feeling back into them.

“Please invest in some gloves,” Jordan says, and Mat laughs loudly.

“Eh,” Mat shrugs, and Jordan just laughs right back, pulling out of the parking space. Mat lets his hands fall into his lap as Jordan drives and drives, pulling into a Chipotle. “Hey, Ebs? Can we cook lunch today?”

Jordan shrugs, putting the car in reverse again. “Yeah, sure. You okay?” He drives toward the grocery store in the back of the parking lot, and Mat is silent for a bit, hyping himself up.

“Listen, Jordan,” he starts, and Jordan sighs.

“This isn’t a break up, is it?” he asks, and Mat blinks, staring straight ahead.

“A...what?” Mat sighs, confused. “I just wanted to apologize for like. Ghosting.”

“Oh,” Jordan says, and he pulls into a parking space. “So, no break up.” 

Mat feels his chest tighten, and resolves to ignore it. He’s hurt Jordan enough. “Um, no.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’m just sorry that I hurt you. I won’t do that again.” He gets out of the car and Jordan follows suit. They walk into the store silently, and Jordan picks up a bag of kale.

“Thank you for apologizing, I appreciate it,” Jordan says. He turns the bag of kale over. “It’s okay. Do you want to make kale chips?” 

“Not particularly, but we can,” Mat says, and Jordan puts it in the basket. “Are we okay?”

“We are,” Jordan confirms. He grabs ingredients for sandwiches, and lets Mat get veggie straws, and they head toward the self checkout. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” Mat says dumbly. He bags the items as Jordan scans them. “I mean, yes?” Jordan grabs the bag, unimpressed, and Mat sighs. “Ebs, wait.”

“Mat,” Jordan starts, putting the grocery bag in the back seat. He grabs the veggie straws and hands them to Mat. “Eat these.”

“Um. Right now?” Mat asks.

“Yes, so you don’t interrupt me,” Jordan says. Mat gestures as if to say, “okay, fair,” and rips the bag open, immediately stuffing two of them in his mouth. “Listen, you woke up crying the other day and then ignored me for 3 more days, and you’re really going to sit here and act like you’re not okay?” 

“I said I was sorry, Ebs,” Mat mutters, and Jordan groans.

“Yeah, I know, and I accepted your apology, but I just.” He cuts himself off, tamping down on his frustration. He takes a deep breath, and Mat anxiously sucks on a veggie straw. He texts Tito.

_ I’m out of my league here please help!!!!  _ he sends.

_ Buddy you gotta learn to healthily talk out your emotions with someone other than me eventually _ , Tito responds.

_ well, _ Mat says, and that’s that. 

“I just want you to talk to me, you know?” Jordan says, finally, and Mat lets out a breath of relief. “Like, you don’t have to tell me specifics, but like. I know you’re not okay, so don’t lie to me, yeah?” He pulls into the parking space and they just sit as Jordan waits for Mat to respond.

“I...yeah,” Mat says, finally. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Mat sighs, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I was embarrassed, I guess. I usually just take care of myself. Or call my mom.”

Jordan laughs quietly, and he takes Mat’s hand and squeezes it. “Hey, we all get stressed and cry and have bad dreams. It’s okay.” Mat nods, almost believing it, and they get out of the car, bringing the groceries and their bags in. 

As soon as Jordan drops his bag on the floor, Mat sets the groceries on the counter and kisses him, pressing him against the refrigerator door. The kiss is intense and hot, and Mat pulls back, biting Jordan’s lower lip once. They stand there, breathing together. “You deserve so much, you know that?” Jordan asks, and Mat shakes his head, kissing Jordan again. “Mat, seriously.”

“I like when you call me Mat,” Mat says, definitely deflecting. He looks at Jordan and sees everything he could ever want, and that scares him, so he kisses Jordan one more time and steps back. “You promised me kale chips.” He turns away from Jordan and tries not to cry again, and Jordan presses a kiss to the back of his shoulder.

“I did,” he says, and starts to prep them. Mat definitely, definitely is fucked.

 

Mat spends most of his nights in Jordan’s bed now, and that’s fine with him, because he’s getting really good sex out of it. Usually, he falls asleep once his head hits the pillow, but tonight he can’t stop his brain from racing. They’re in a hotel room in Vancouver, this time, and Mat had kind of just gone right in because he’d had a rough game, and Jordan had fucked him til Mat could barely walk.

But now Mat can’t sleep, so he untangles himself from Jordan and grabs the room key and his phone, and steps outside. His finger hovers over the name and before he knows it, he’s calling.

“Hello?” Mitch Marner says, sounding bright and cheery. It’s 8 am in Toronto.

“Hey, Marns, it’s Mat,” he says, sliding down against the wall. Mitch’s breath hitches, and Mat feels like he’s 16 again.

“Mat, hey.” He’s in a quiet place, and Mitch’s voice is clear, even though it’s over the phone. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Mat says, and he remembers, suddenly, crying to Tito about feeling heartbroken, and how much it had really fucked him up, and how Tito’s right. Mat’s really not a casual sex kind of guy.

“Are you...you’re in Vancouver, right now,” Marns says. “Are you okay? It’s early.”

“I just wanted to talk about our thing that wasn’t anything,” Mat says, feeling brave. Maybe it’s because it’s five in the morning.

Mitch sucks in a breath, and Mat knows he’s struck a nerve. If he was a better person, he’d feel bad. But he’s not, so it feels okay. “Mat, I...I’m really sorry, about the way I treated you,” he says, almost immediately, and then Mat feels tears in his eyes.

“Actually?” Mat asks. His voice sounds small, even to himself.

“Yes,” Mitch says. “I’m so sorry. And I should’ve said something sooner, because I know that you went and broke Auston’s heart right after--”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” Mat laughs, weakly. Mitch laughs too.

“I know, I know. I just. It was shitty, what I said.” Mitch pauses, taking a deep breath. He clears his throat. “And I just want you to know that like. I didn’t want to date you, but that was just me having a huge crush on Stromer. Nothing to do with you as a person. You’re a good person, Mat, and I treated you like nothing.” 

Mat blinks and a few tears come out. Tito walks out of his room, right then, and sees him crying on the phone, and looks alarmed. He shakes his head, but Tito comes and sits next to him anyway. “Marns,” he starts, and Tito’s eyes bug out of his head. It would be comical if Mat wasn’t so wrung out. “Marns, that’s really...wow.”

“It’s the truth, Barzy,” he says, and he sounds happy, content. That makes Mat cry a little more, and he takes a deep breath, leaning in to Tito’s side.

“I think I fell in love with you, Marns, and that’s why it hurt,” he says, and Mitch makes an  _ oh _ sound, and Mat sniffs. “Like, I’m over it, I just. I needed to talk to you about it.”

“I get it, air all your grievances now and all that shit, right?” Mitch sighs. “I’m really, really fucking sorry, Mat. It’s like, okay if you don’t forgive me? But I just want you to know that I’m sorry I fucked you up. Tito told me I did, like, three years ago and I didn’t know how to react--” Mat elbows Tito in the ribs and Tito yelps “--but I think like, it’s good that you called. I’m glad you did.”

“Marns, it was four years ago. It’s okay. I’m okay,” he says, and he means it. “I’m really glad you’re doing well. I’m super happy for you.” 

“Me too, Barz. I’m really happy for you and all your success. Next time we play, wanna meet up? It’s been too long.” Mat hears Auston’s voice in the background, and a muffled Mitch reply, and it doesn’t make him want to cry. 

“Yeah, sure. I have to go, but thanks for picking up,” Mat says, sniffling again. He can practically hear Mitch’s smile when he says bye, and Mat hangs up, staring at his phone for a while. 

“Hey,” Tito says, after what feels like hours. Mat checks his phone and it’s only 5:30.

“Hey back,” Mat says. 

“Proud of you.” Tito squeezes his shoulder, and goes back to their room. Mat sighs and swipes back in to Jordan’s room, feeling a little lighter. He plugs his phone back in and crawls next to Jordan.

“Hey,” Jordan mumbles, rolling over and throwing an arm over Mat’s waist. Mat presses a light kiss to his hair.

“Hey back,” Mat says. Jordan kisses his collarbone and opens his eyes. Mat’s literally never seen someone so beautiful. He fully has to stop himself from saying that.

“You okay?” he asks, and Mat nods.

“Just got a call, don’t worry.” He slides down a little more and Jordan nuzzles his neck; it makes Mat giggle. “Ebs, come on. It’s like 5:40, we still have at least three more hours til we need to get up.”

“Fine,” Jordan says, and they rearrange so they’re both comfortable. Mat falls asleep without his chest hurting for the first time in years.

 

It all comes to a head when Mat lets an “I love you” slip out after sex. Jordan’s eyes get so wide Mat thinks his eyeballs might fall out, and Mat probably doesn’t look any better. He feels bile rising up in his throat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, and Jordan flinches. 

“You...what?” Jordan moves away from him and, yeah, Mat’s fucked everything up. 

“I’m sorry, it just, slipped out,” Mat says. It’s muffled by the fact that he’s burying his face in his hands.

“So...you didn’t mean it,” Jordan says flatly, and Mat sees this as an out that Jordan’s giving him. So he takes it.

“Nope, no I did not,” Mat says, getting up from the bed and hastily putting clothes on. He grabs a random shirt and pulls it on and moves toward the door. “In fact, I really have to fucking go. Bye.” 

He gets out of Jordan’s apartment in record time, and gets in his car. He checks his phone and there’s three texts from Jordan.

_?????  _

_ What the fuck, Mat? _

_ I guess this is done. _

It hurts more than Mat would like it to, so he cries the entire way to Tito’s house as it rains cats and dogs in Brooklyn. He bangs on Tito’s door so hard he thinks he might have broken his hand, and he can’t fucking breathe, but Tito just pulls him in and sits him on his couch, holding his hands until he’s ready to speak. After what feels like hours, Mat takes a deep breath, sniffling.

“Why do you always hold my hands when I panic?” is his first question, and if Tito is shocked, he doesn’t let on.

“Do you remember when Marns ended things with you? And it hurt so bad you cried for an hour?” Tito asks, and Mat nods. Not entirely what he wanted to hear. “You scratched your wrists so hard they bled. I don’t even think you noticed. But you did it again after Auston, so I started holding your hands so you had something to do with them other than hurt yourself.”

Mat is so touched. He throws his arms around Tito’s neck and holds on, really tight. “I love you, you know.” 

Tito squeezes him, rubbing his back. “I love you too. Tell me what happened.” 

Everything spills out of Mat; how he fell in love and ruined it all, because he ruins everything he touches. And how Jordan had looked at him, shocked after he said it, and had asked him if he really meant it, and how much that hurt, and how much it hurt when Jordan ended things, even though they weren’t even really together. 

“He...what? Ended it?” Tito asks. He sounds shocked. Mat swallows the lump in his throat, trying not to cry again.

“Yeah, he, uh, he wasn’t happy with me. I fucked up, Tito,” Mat says, and his voice is shaky again. He fucking hates this.

“Hey, no,” Tito says, squeezing his hands. “Not true. He didn’t handle it well either. And he saw you were afraid and stressed. It’s okay, Mat. It’s not all on you. Don’t always take so much blame on yourself.” 

Mat lets himself cry for two hours on Tito’s couch. He lets himself cry for Marns, for Auston, for Mitchell Stephens and Dylan Strome, for Chabby, and finally, for Ebs. He lets himself have a two hour pity party, and Tito is the only one invited. They sit there and Mat screams and cries and curses everyone out, and Tito encourages it, handing Mat shit to throw that won’t break. Mat throws it and sobs and is angry for only two hours, and then he wipes his face and sits up straight.

“I’m going to be okay,” he says. His voice lacks conviction, though, and he clears his throat. “I will be okay.” It’s louder this time, and Tito smiles slightly.

“Good,” he says. “Say it again.”

“I’m gonna be okay,” Mat says, determined and ready. Tito brushes a strand of hair out of his face and tucks it behind Mat’s ear.

“Go home, go relax,” Tito says quietly. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.”

Mat sighs. “Yeah, it will.”

And it does suck. Jordan won’t look Mat in the eye at all, and Mat feels exposed, vulnerable. But Tito puts himself in between Jordan and Mat all practice as best he can, and they don’t stand together, and Mat thinks hopefully he can pass it off to the rest of the team as being tired.

Mat thinks he’s managing well for the next week and a half until JT approaches him, asking to talk.

“Nothing bad,” he promises. “Just after practice. We can grab lunch?” 

Mat swallows thickly. “Yeah, sure,” he agrees, grabbing his water bottle and heading toward the ice quickly. He makes a high-pitched sighing noise, and Nick gives him a look. He narrows his eyes back, and Nick just shrugs.

His practice is horrible. He can’t focus, only half of his shots go in, and he does suicide sprints at the end of practice with the order to “get his head out of his ass.” He takes a long shower and tries to think of what JT could possibly need to talk to him about. He ends up shaking with nerves by the time he leaves the shower, and pulls his clothes on as Jordan is leaving. They make eye contact and Jordan freezes momentarily before walking away briskly. 

“Fuck,” Mat says to himself, and then a hand claps his shoulder. “Fuck!” he exclaims louder, and JT laughs. 

“You ready?” he asks, and Mat nods, grabbing his stuff. “Good. I’ll drive.”

The ride to tiny cafe JT likes is mostly silent, minus the country music blasting. Mat picks at a rip in his jeans, looking at JT’s face, then back at his lap. He feels the nerves pooling in his gut, and he blows out a raspberry, shaking the tension out of his hands. 

They walk into the cafe and are seated immediately; it’s pretty empty. Mat decides on a salad, thinks maybe he won’t have to talk as much if he’s shoving vegetables in his mouth. JT orders a burger --  without a bun.

“Boring,” Mat mumbles, and JT rolls his eyes and throws a napkin at him. Mat snorts and  takes a deep breath and just starts talking. “Look, I’m so sorry my play’s been off, I promise you I’ll get my head out of my ass soon. I’ve just been having a really rough time and I really have just been struggling and so much has been going on and I promise I’m working through it.” 

JT furrows his brows. “What’s been going on? I was just going to ask why you’d been sad lately. Everyone knows something happened between you and Ebs. Is everything okay?” He looks concerned, in a way that only John Tavares can, and everything wants to spill out of Mat, everything from how he just wanted sex to falling in love and wanting that.

All he says instead is, “I love him, and he doesn’t love me back.”

JT sucks in a breath and Mat looks at his lap, embarrassed. “Barzy, hey,” JT says. The waiter sets their food in front of them, and Mat immediately stuffs a huge mound of salad in his mouth so that he definitely won’t have to speak. “Mat, look at me.”

“Mmm?” 

“You probably just need to talk to him,” JT says softly, looking at his burger pensively. “I’ve learned the hard way that communication is the only way relationships work out.” Mat looks at him, wondering what exactly that means.

“We weren’t...though,” Mat argues, being purposefully vague. JT twists his mouth, frowning slightly. “Like, Ebs really deserves better than me, and I didn’t want to lock him into something because that felt bad.”

“Okay, seriously, this is so dumb,” JT says suddenly, and Mat shuts up. It’s not his captain voice, but it’s close, and Mat is immediately ready to listen. “Just talk to him, Barz. Do you even know…” JT trails off, and Mat looks to prompt him, but JT just shakes his head. “Talk to him. You’ll never know if you don’t.” 

They finish the rest of their meal talking about getting over slumps and random everyday things, but their first conversation is never far from Mat’s mind, and he leaves JT’s car thinking a lot. And then he gets drunk. 

 

Mat, in his infinite wisdom, drinks far too much gin, and gets far, far too drunk for a Wednesday night, and he calls an Uber. “Where are you going?” the driver asks, and Mat gives Jordan’s address immediately without even thinking. Before he knows it, he’s paying the driver and finding himself in front of Jordan’s door. He knocks 8 times before finding Jordan’s spare key, and then suddenly Jordan’s in front of him.

“Mat?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes, and shit, Mat woke him up.

“Did I wake you?” Mat asks, suddenly feeling too drunk for the situation. “Shit. Can I have some water?” 

Jordan grabs him and pulls him in and sits him on the couch, grabbing him water from the kitchen. Mat suddenly feels very, very young as Jordan sets a glass in front of him. “Here. How drunk are you?”

“Not at all,” Mat says, and Jordan gives him an unimpressed look. Mat sighs. “Okay, maybe a lot.”

Jordan sighs harder and sits next to him, giving his hand a squeeze. “Alright, I’ll bite. Why’d you come?”

Mat debates for approximately two seconds before his drunk brain takes over and lets him say, “I’m in love with you, and I know you don’t love me back. I’m going to throw up now.” And he runs to the bathroom and promptly throws up in Jordan’s toilet.

“Shit, Mat,” Jordan mutters as Mat wretches. Mat empties the entire contents of his stomach and Jordan rubs circles into his back.

“‘M sorry,” Mat mumbles, and throws up again.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jordan says. They wait an entire two minutes; Mat’s breathing heavily, but his stomach feels an entire world away from the way it did, and he looks at Jordan. Jordan smooths his hair back. “You done? Can you walk?” 

“Mmmm,” Mat says in response, which makes Jordan laugh lightly. He heaves him up and carries him bridal style to his bed and sets him in it. Mat feels loved, and well, that’s new. He reaches up to Jordan, but Jordan just tucks him in and sets his glass of water next to him. He tells Mat to lay back, and then Mat’s out.

When he wakes up, the room is too bright and his head feels like a train is continually ramming it. He realizes, belatedly, that he’s not in his bed, but in Jordan’s, which immediately makes him sit up. His head swims and he groans, but he looks over; the other side of the bed is untouched. He gratefully drinks the water next to him.

He gets up to explore and literally runs into Jordan in the hallway, and everything he said and did last night comes back to him. “Fuck,” he groans, and Jordan snorts. “Please tell me amazingly that you were blackout and you don’t remember anything that happened last night?”

Jordan shakes his head, slight smile on his face. “Unfortunately, I think you know otherwise.”

“I guess,” Mat starts, and he sighs again. “I guess we should talk, huh?”

“Probably.” Jordan walks to the kitchen, motioning for Mat to follow him. Mat sits at his counter and places his head in his arms. “How’s the head?” Jordan places Advil in front of him, ruffling his hair.

“It’s definitely painful.” Mat swallows it dry as Jordan places Starbucks in front of him. He stares at it for a long moment before looking up at Jordan. “Did you get this for me?”

“I did,” Jordan says, sitting next to him. He gives Mat a playful shove, and Mat shoves back. It’s the most normal they’ve been in weeks. Jordan turns serious too quickly, and Mat frowns, knowing what’s coming. “Why’d you come?”

“I told you last night, Ebs,” Mat mumbles into his cup, taking a big sip to avoid talking any more. Jordan looks at him expectantly as if he thinks there’s more to the story. Mat laughs; it sounds bitter. “I told you. I’m in love with you, and you deserve to know, because you deserve good things that I just can’t give you.”

Jordan furrows his brows, confusion evident on his face. “And you don’t?” he asks, impossibly soft. Mat closes his eyes willing himself to stay calm. He takes a deep breath. “Barz, Mat.”

“What, Ebs?” He opens his eyes and Jordan kisses him, soft and slow, like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. Mat makes a surprised noise, but he leans into it. He pulls back and touches his lips, like he can’t believe what’s happening. His stomach flutters. “Jordan?”

“Mat,” he whispers. “Mat, listen to me.” He cups Mat’s cheek, and Mat cannot even explain how his entire body is shaking. “You deserve the whole world.” 

“Jordan, please,” Mat says, laughing weakly. “You know me.”

Jordan nods, kissing his cheek. “I do.” He kisses his forehead, his cheek, and his mouth. “And I love you.” Mat doesn’t want to cry, so he jumps into Jordan’s lap, kissing him. Jordan catches him easily, hands splaying across Mat’s back. Mat kisses him faster and harder, and Jordan pulls back. “Bedroom, now.”

Mat pulls him there and pulls down Jordan’s pants, pushing him back on the bed. Jordan looks surprised, and it makes Mat laugh, which makes Jordan giggle. Jordan pulls Mat’s shirt off and pulls him in, kissing him so much he can barely stand. He takes Jordan in his mouth like it’s communion at church, and Jordan gasps so loud that Mat feels it in his soul.

“Mat, Mat,” Jordan gasps. He pulls away reluctantly, looking up at Jordan. “I love you.” Mat kisses up Jordan’s chest and kisses at Jordan’s collarbone. “I love you,” Jordan repeats, and flips them over. 

“ _ Jordan _ ,” Mat says, and Jordan presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and Mat nods vigorously.

“Of course, yes,” he says, and Jordan lubes himself up. Mat is impatient, but Jordan puts the tip in and Mat’s already in heaven. He gasps, and Jordan goes deeper. “Jesus, Jordan, you’re amazing.” 

“I love you,” Jordan says, rocking against him, and Mat cries out loudly. 

“ _ Fuck _ , I love you.” Jordan keeps going, and Mat is in absolute heaven. Jordan presses a kiss to the back of his shoulder and bites there playfully, and Mat gasps. “I-I’m gonna,” he starts, unable to finish before he comes. Jordan comes a minute later and they lay there for a moment, just breathing. Mat rolls over to face Jordan, and he’s crying, completely blissed out. 

“You’re amazing,” Jordan whispers, kissing him, and Mat shakes his head, not wanting to listen, but Jordan turns his face to look at him as he lays next to him. “Mat, you deserve the entire world. I just want to give you that.” 

Mat cries and cries as Jordan says he loves him again and again. Jordan’s holding him and rocking him back and forth, and he’ll blame this on having just had sex and being emotional, but he keeps crying even as he reaches up to kiss Jordan. They just kiss for a while, holding each other, and Mat pulls back. “I don’t...I don’t know why you love me, but I love you so much, and this is so much for me, but I really do love you.”

Jordan kisses his forehead, then his mouth, just soft and sweet. “You deserve everything, you idiot. All I want to do is give it to you.”

Mat kisses him again and feels lighter and lighter as the hours go by.

 

\--

 

“What’s your newest book, Barzy?” Chimmer asks as he and Jordan get into their seats. “Oh, nice,  _ Pride and Prejudice _ , your mom give you that one, too?” Mat rolls his eyes, sliding into the window seat and handing Ebs his bag to put in the overhead bin.

“Actually, this was Ebs’ choice,” he says, and Jordan throws his jacket at him. “Hey!”

“It’s good!” Jordan protests, only half-hearted. “Haven’t you seen the movie?!” 

“No,” Seids says flatly, and the entire team erupts in laughter. Mat is laughing, too, and he slips out to grab a coffee and runs into Tito.

“So,” Tito begins, waggling his eyebrows, and Mat snorts. “What? I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” Mat says, pouring the coffee. It hits his hand and he shakes it out, hissing. “Ouch, what the fuck.” 

Jordan scoots past him, hand lingering on Mat’s lower back as he grabs a cup. “You do that all too often,” he says, which makes Tito laugh. Mat frowns, but Jordan kisses his temple quickly before pouring his coffee and walking away. “Kidding.”

“I know,” Mat says, slightly flushed and flustered. Tito just gives him  _ that  _ look, and Mat just looks back, trying not to smile. “Yes, Anthony?” 

“I’m just happy for you, bud.” Tito elbows him in the ribs, and Mat shoves him back, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Thanks,” he says, completely sincere. Jordan beckons him over, and Mat sashays toward him, stopping right in front. “Yes?”

“Just waiting for you,” Jordan says. He kisses him once and Mat slides into his seat, Jordan next to him. They buckle up and the lights turn off, the plane taking off. “Love you,” he murmurs, kissing Mat’s hand. Mat’s plane anxiety seems to slip away.

“Love you, too,” he says. He’s doing okay, the team’s doing okay, he and Jordan are doing  _ great _ , and he feels like for the first time in a long time, he’ll be okay, too.

**Author's Note:**

> A character has a panic attack, and used to practice slight self harm. Only one mention.
> 
> Characters mentioned and written about but not tagged: John Tavares, Josh Ho-Sang, Mitch Marner, Auston Matthews, Thomas Chabot, Mitchell Stephens, Dylan Strome, Jason Chimera, Nick Leddy, Dennis Seidenberg
> 
> Thank you for reading!! I appreciate the hell out of you for it. <3
> 
> Come talk to me on twitter about dumb boys @adamsparirsh


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